Stressors
by DaughterOfAres
Summary: Provenza and Sharon have a heart to heart about Julio, Oderno, Stroh, and cookouts.


**I was procrastinating. This is the result.**

 **Takes place a month after season three's end.**

* * *

 **Stressors**

He pushed her office door open without knocking.

She was looking intently at the file lying open in front of her. Her pen moved across the page checking off all the appropriate boxes and filling in the blank spaces. She didn't look up even as he slammed the door closed.

Provenza stood just inside the door, his hand tapping impatiently against the keys in his pocket. His eyes narrowed as the cadence of his tapping increased and his lips nearly disappeared as he pressed them into a thin line.

Even as the muffled jingling of his keys grew louder she didn't look up.

Damn woman. She did this on purpose.

"Ye gods…" he muttered, unconcerned if she heard him, he moved to one of the chairs in front of her desk and purposefully adjusted it making as much noise as possible.

She continued to work on the form in front of her. Because she came to work every day with the goal of annoying him further.

Witch.

He made himself comfortable in the chair in front of her desk with a grunt. (When did he get to the age that _sitting_ resulted in grunts?)

She still didn't look up. He leaned onto one elbow and glared the tops of her glasses while the heel of his foot tapped impatiently against the carpet. The sound wasn't as satisfying as the keys.

The fingertips of her left hand held the top edges of the paper she was filling out. She continued writing, each move of the pen concise and unrushed. Finally, she paused to scan the paper – the pen in her right hand moving from the top of the form to the bottom – checking each line for errors. Without hurry, her left hand flipped the sheet face down while moving it to the "completed" side of the folder. The set the pen on her desk, and her eyes finally met his.

"Something I can help you with, Lieutenant?" She leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms.

"He's coming back."

She broke eye contact with him to look away, and some of his irritation disappeared to be replaced by surprise.

Fear hadn't been the emotion he'd expected his statement to produce. The surprise vanished faster than it appeared, and suddenly he was furious at her. Livid. How dare she come into this division – HIS DIVISION – and think she knew the people in it better than he did? Fine. Sanchez wasn't perfect. But how could she even _pretend_ be _afraid_ of his return? It wasn't like he'd done anything to _her_. Julio was nothing but loyal when it came to every member of this team including HER! She didn't deserve that sort of loyalty from one of the best cops in the LAPD. Julio was a hundred times the cop she could ever even _hope_ to be, and -

"I know, Lieutenant." Her voice was soft. Sad even. And suddenly Provenza was acutely aware of how much weight she'd lost in just over a month. Her make-up couldn't hide how hollowed her cheeks looked or the dark circles that grew increasingly more evident as the days went by. Her face had lost some of its roundness. She looked… _fragile_ almost, and that only increased his anger at her. She had no right to act like Julio's suspension hurt her. That Julio's behavior gave her reasons to be afraid. "Rusty doesn't understand just how much danger he's in with Stroh on the loose, and we're no closer to finding him now than we were a month ago."

Oh.

 _Oh._

His anger instantly drained and his irritation followed it. They weren't talking about the same thing.

He should have known. She'd done little else since Stroh's escape but try to track him down. She'd work other cases, of course. And he was pretty sure that she'd stopped taking the Stroh case home with her. At least she knew where to draw the line when it came to obsessing over a case. But she was constantly pouring over the file in her office with every spare minute she had.

He cleared his throat, in hopes that his voice wouldn't show too much empathy. "Stroh is smart. He won't stick around. He's probably vacationing on a beach in some country without extradition by now."

She turned her face towards him again, and her hopeful eyes met his. But that was the best he could do.

Damn woman.

He cleared his throat again, and glanced down at the foot he hadn't realized he'd stopped moving. "So, uhh…Julio… he'll be returning to work in a few months."

The Captain blinked and sat up. Whatever hope had been in her eyes was quickly covered with a neutral expression. She had her business face on, again. It was better than the fear. "Hopefully, Lieutenant."

"Oderno is useless."

"Lieutenant…"

"Julio WILL come back."

"That is entirely up to Julio." Damn woman was infuriating. She did it on purpose. Provenza was sure of it. She got some sort of sick pleasure out of irritating him.

He glared at her, slouching down in his chair to make it clear he wasn't leaving until she gave him something more.

She raised an eyebrow.

He raised both of his in response.

She waited. Silently.

Provenza was glad the fear he'd glimpsed earlier was gone or he'd have no chance in this staring contest.

She sighed and leaned forward – clearly Stroh was taking a lot out of her if she was giving in already – resting her elbows on her desk but keeping her arms crossed. "I want him to come back, too, Lieutenant. But I can't force him."

"You can't force Rusty to accept police protection either."

She stiffened, but narrowed her eyes challengingly. As though daring him to try and talk her out of the undercover detail following her son around.

Provenza was smart enough to realize that was a battle he wouldn't win even if he wanted to try. "How long do you think you can hide that from Rusty? He's a smart kid. He'll figure it out."

"According to the Johnson Rule the LAPD has a responsibility to protect anyone who might be in danger whether they want that protection or not."

 _The Johnson Rule._

He almost laughed at her using it. So that's how she'd convinced Taylor to go along with an undercover detail for Rusty for an indefinite period of time. He should have known. An image filled his mind of what the Chief and the Captain would do to Stroh if left in a room alone with him.

That would be something to see. Assuming, of course, that the Captain had been stressed to the point of no return and willing to forget about the _rules_ long enough to argue with the Chief about how they should torture him.

"Julio might be far more inclined to return if he knew he was wanted."

She raised an eyebrow and a smile tugged at her lips. "Do you really think _I_ am the person he wants to hear that from?"

She was in his head again. God damn woman.

He grinned. "No, but you'll have to do."

She didn't try to hide her smile, but it didn't reach her eyes.

Damn Stroh. Damn him to the…TENTH circle of hell.

He sighed. How long could they keep this up? "Mike was telling me…Cathy wants to have a cookout now that it's warming up again."

"I see." Her voice was calculating. Finally. Who knew the day would come when he'd miss that? Maybe he was the one who needed therapy instead of Julio.

"I think it would be good for Julio. Get everyone together. Show him we all still _care_."

He could feel her thinking. Wondering about _all_ his motives.

He continued, "Everyone except Oderno, of course."

* * *

 **I kind of love Oderno, to be honest. Especially, for how much he annoyed Provenza. :D**

 **Thoughts? Prompts? Encouragement? :D**


End file.
